


Valentine

by lillyluna



Category: Phlochte - Fandom, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gay Couple, M/M, Valentine - Freeform, i think, throw back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael thinks of Ryan while helping his niece pick out Valentine’s Day cards for her class. Well, that’s a lie he doesn’t really ever not think of Ryan but in the past seven months, he’s gotten pretty good at stopping himself from doing it...</p><p>This is from 2012 and I'd totally forgotten about it until I decided to go explore the back pages of my livejournal, I decided to bring it back to life here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine

Michael thinks of Ryan while helping his niece pick out Valentine’s Day cards for her class. Well, that’s a lie he doesn’t really ever not think of Ryan but in the past seven months, he’s gotten pretty good at stopping himself from doing it.

Michael’s niece debates between Disney Princesses and One Direction while he leans on the cart and waits. He’s about to suggest that they just get both and she can figure it out at home (He’s been in there for twenty minutes without being recognized and figures that he’s pushing his luck by hanging around) when his eyes fall on one of the few green boxes amidst the sea of pink and red.

Ninja Turtles.

He picks up the box and studies the examples on the back: “I like you as much as Pizza! Cowabunga!” one of them says. He chuckles to himself, grabs his phone, takes a picture and automatically goes to text it to Ryan.

Ryan’s name used to be at the top of his text list, at the top of his email and all over his voicemail. Now to find Ryan’s number he has to scroll almost to the bottom and the last text was sent so long ago that the history has been deleted. It shocks him that he has to go by Devon’s number before seeing Ryan’s name.

His niece tugs on the hem of his shirt, “Princesses.” She says.

“Princesses.” He repeats to her and drops them in the cart.

“Those are for boys.” She wrinkles her nose at the box he’s still holding.

“Well I’m a boy.” He reminds her.

“You don’t even have a class.”

“I have friends.”

“Then you have to give them Valentines.” She reasons.

He can’t argue with her so he drops the ninja turtle valentines in the cart and shoves his phone back in his pocket without texting Ryan.

*

He wishes it was hard to find Ryan because then he’d have an excuse but as one google search points out; it’s ridiculously easy to find out where Ryan is.

Michaels sits on his couch with his laptop. Herman’s head is on his knee and he feels like a loser because he has to fucking google the guy who’d been his best friend for ten years.

Ryan’s twitter account tells him he’s in Orlando rooming with Dwyer.

Allison’s text message tells him what hotel they’re staying at.

There’s a flight to Orlando every hour.

He crams the valentines in his bag at the last minute.

*

Ryan and Michael had tried to date for the first time after Beijing. It had been a disaster. Michael had been too busy and he’d kept hurting Ryan’s feelings without meaning too. They would meet up in random cities whenever Michael had enough time in his schedule to have half an hour without a television interview or a commercial shoot.

He’d be exhausted and Ryan would be sad and both of them had an awful time. It took three months and one really ugly fight before they’d called the whole thing off. They had stopped talking for a few weeks until the night Ryan’s username had popped up on Xbox Live and they’d played Call of Duty together until 4am.

Then they’d been best friends again.

The dating thing hadn’t come up until a weekend in Las Vegas two years later. After having way too much to drink, Michael had pushed Ryan up against the mirrored wall of an elevator and kissed and grinded against him so desperately they’d missed their floor twice.

They hadn’t used protection and when Michael had woken up the next morning Ryan had already left.

*

They’d talked about after London briefly and Michael had offered that things would be different. That he wouldn’t be flying all over the place and trying to fit a million appearances. That he could be there.

Ryan hadn’t said anything.

Michael had brought Megan to London.

Ryan left.

They stopped talking.

*

The flight to Orlando is pretty empty. Michael toys with his phone and starts to panic because he hasn’t talked to Ryan in seven months and he’s pretty sure that Ryan, who usually forgives everything after an hour, does not want to see him.

Michael tries to tell himself that calling Ryan is like diving into a cold pool at 5am on a Monday morning in December. The more you think about it; the worst it is.

He hits dial, holds his breath and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He knows he shouldn’t be on the phone while he drives because everyone in Florida drives like well… Ryan but he needs something to distract him from-

“Yo.”

“Dwyer?”

“Phelps?”

“Is this your-“

“No it’s Ry’s, he’s… hold up.”

“No dude it’s” Michael wants to hit his head on the steering wheel but he drives faster instead.

“Mike?” Ryan’s voice is sleepy and Michael can almost see him rub a hand over his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong I just…”

“Can you text me later bro?” Ryan doesn’t let him finish, “I’m like super tired.”

“Um yeah sure… I’ll-“

“How’s your family dude?” Ryan throws in all good manners and charm.

“Good, they’re good.”

“Awesome, I’ll talk to you later.”

Michael hears the sound of Ryan’s body hitting the mattress and sheets rustling over the phone.

“Yeah,” Michael says simply because Ryan’s left him no other option, “Later.”

*

There’s no way Michael can walk into a swim meet without being recognized and he spends the first ten minutes in the lobby of the hotel signing autographs, taking pictures and insisting that no, he’s not there to swim.

The front desk tells him right away which room Ryan’s in and before he has time to think Michael heads to the elevator, hits the button for the sixth floor and knocks.

“Use your key motherfucker.” Ryan yells, “I’m sleeping.”

“Dude it’s me.” Michael knocks again.

Ryan’s shirtless in sweatpants and he stretches his arms in front of him after he opens the door.

“You coulda just sent flowers.” He yawns

“I just.” Michael wants to run his hand down Ryan’s abs so he busies himself digging through his backpack.

“Decided to show up?” Ryan pulls him into his room and closes the door behind him. “That’s kinda like… woah.”

“What?”

“Like seven months and you’re here? Weak bro.” Ryan drops back on the bed.

“I couldn’t text you.” Michael tries to explain.

“But you can fly out and drop in?” Ryan shakes his head.

“I miss you.”

“Jeah me too but like that was heavy shit and I couldn’t- That fucking hurt.”

“I broke up with her.” Michael offers.

“Don’t talk about her.” Ryan snaps.

Michael doesn’t know what to say and it’s awkward as hell to be standing while Ryan is in bed. He thinks of walking out but Ryan’s still watching him and he hasn’t been kicked out yet.

“Why are you here man?” Ryan says.

“I found these.” Michael grabs the green box of mutant turtle valentine cards and tosses it to Ryan.

“Cowabunga.” Ryan laughs, “Dude awesome.”

“I wanted to like take a pic and send it but l couldn’t.”

“So you flew?” Ryan shakes his head again, “People call me stupid.”

Michael sits on the chair by the window and props his feet up on Ryan’s bed, “I didn’t say it made sense I just said I couldn’t do it.”

“All these are for me?” Ryan turns the box over to examine the back, “Like 25 valentines for me? You’re that short on friends MP?”

“Shut up.”

“Kinda late to ask me to be your valentine dude.” Ryan grins though, “Even if you say that I’m mondo to the max.”

“Shut up.” Michael repeats, “I just thought-”

Michael leans forward to grab the box away from Ryan but Ryan holds the box away from him.

“Condition one.” Ryan says.

“To what?”

“To be my valentine. Condition one.”

“I never asked you.” Michael teases.

“You just gave me a box full so I think you did, wanna hear my rules?”

“How many are there?”

“Three.”

“You’re pushing it Loch-“  
“Fine, then you can try giving these to Conor but I’m pretty sure he’s not into-“

“Condition one, what’s condition one.”

“Pizza.” Ryan says, “All these talk about it and now I want it. You owe me.”

“Done.” Michael rolls his eyes, “Second.”

“I crash your room, Conor snores.”

“Um yeah.” Michael tries not to think of that one too much, pizza had been easier. “What’s three.”

Ryan plays with the edge of the box, “You say you’re sorry.” He mutters.

“What?” Michael leans in closer because he has a hard time understanding Ryan when he mumbles.

“You say you’re sorry.” Ryan repeats, “It hurt dude.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael says honestly.

“Ok.” Ryan nods.

“It was that easy dude?”

“It’s all I wanted dude.” Ryan rubs the tips of his fingers over the hand Michael’s using to prop himself up on the edge of the bed. “Like fuck I’ve been so…”

“Where’s Conor?”

“Yeah we should probably leave.” Ryan doesn’t bother answering the question. “Where’s your room.”

“Eight floor, no swimmers.” Michael tells him, “Grab your shit babe.”

*

“Where d’you want your pizza from?”

Ryan still hasn’t put on a shirt and he’s leaning against Michael on the couch. He yawns before he answers and his head flops down against Michael’s shoulder.

“Nap first. I was sleeping when you showed up.” Ryan reminds him.

“S’all yours.” Michael points to the bed.  
Ryan doesn’t move and Michael finds himself absentmindedly running his hand up to the back of Ryan’s neck and through his hair.

“It’s not blond.” Michael points out.

“Yeah no sun.” Ryan explains a little sad, “No time.”

Ryan’s head gets heavier against Michael’s shoulder while his breathing slows down and evens out.

“MPeezy?” Ryan mumbles with his eyes still close.

“What?” Michael pulls Ryan in closer to him. He rubs the pad of his thumb on Ryan’s chest, running it from one freckle to another.

“You don’t like….” Ryan stops.

“I don’t what?” Michael kisses Ryan’s shoulder somewhere close to his tattoo.

“You don’t…” Ryan moans softly when Michael kisses from his shoulder up to his neck, “You don’t give a guy twenty-five ninja turtle valentine and leave jeah?”

“Yeah.” Michael agrees.

“Don’t leave.”


End file.
